


There’s No Kingdom to Come

by hedgerowhag



Category: Hellboy (Movies), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: (I’m SORRY), Alternate Universe - Hellboy B.P.R.D., Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Canon-Typical Violence, Enemies to Lovers, Folklore, Hux is the same except he has to baby sit a pixie, M/M, Sexual Tension, Spit As Lube, Supernatural Elements, Unsafe Sex, featuring: kylo is thousands of years old and will bite u
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-24
Updated: 2019-03-27
Packaged: 2019-12-06 23:35:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18226919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hedgerowhag/pseuds/hedgerowhag
Summary: Fridays are the worst day of the week. Now, they will be permanently ruined for Hux by the elf twins with their blonde hair and blood shot eyes.—Hellboy/B.P.R.D. AU where Kylo is a prince and Hux is an agent and they have a bad year.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> WHHEEEEEEZZZEEEEEEEEE ITS FINALLY FUCKING HEERE. I blame the entire fucking twitter gc, old members and new, and especially ydnsm w who i made a pact that if she draws hb elf kylo i’ll finish and post this au. AND SHE FUCKING DID IT 
> 
> Please look at ydnsm’s elf kylo on her Twitter [HERE](https://twitter.com/ydnsm1/status/1109919839739502592?s=21)
> 
> I dont know what else to say about this au. It is sw and kylux but set up in the hellboy universe. There are vague winks at hellboy and the rest of the weirdos but they are never present. Do u need to know much about hellboy? Maybe watching the movies would help but u absolutely dont need to read the comics. Would it explain some stuff? Defo
> 
> The title is from ‘no plan’ by hozier
> 
> Will there be illustrations??? IDK BRO

The red metal scratches down the brick. Dust hits Hux’s face as he drops aside, watching the blade score down to the cement. For the hundredth time this night, Hux finds himself staring dumb at the sword with blades for crossguards, beaten out of red metal, and wondering what compound was used to make it.

The shriek of stone and metal triggers Hux to roll away, a flash of electricity.

“Kylo Ren, you face me as an equal!” the elven princess shrieks to her twin brother. Her staff sparks with electricity as it hits against his red blade. “You murderer!”

Fridays are the worst day of the week. Now, they will be permanently ruined for him by the elf twins with their blonde hair and blood shot eyes. Hux hates family feuds, or getting involved in them, but this one ties in the potential of the end of humanity. Something about an indestructible army from days by gone—

Bullets scatter on the wall of the New York alley. Kylo Ren’s armoured back hits the brick as his sister kicks him back, cracking his head of matted yellow-white hair on the wall.

The princess’ staff scratches sparks on the pavement. Compared to her brother, she almost seamlessly blends in with the public. She has ditched, since the bureau last seen her, the brown silks and golds, changing into casual modern clothes. It’s only her papery skin and yellow eyes giving her up.

Kylo Ren, however, has not shied away from an inch of his princely demeanour. Sashed with red and black skirts, white skin and hair to contrast it all, it’s impossible to mistake him for anything human.

A hand on Hux’s collar throws him aside. The lip of a rusted dumpster meets his head. Now, there is no doubt that he has a concussion. His tactical gear is torn, weapons gone. He can see the shapes of other agents thrown throughout the alley that were caught in the fallout of the tooth fairies swarming. He has seen none of them move yet.

Tires screech. Light floods the tarmac. Kylo Ren pauses to meet the light with his hollowed out eyes. His sister catches the moment, twisting the red sword out of his hand and hitting him with the pommel to the head.

Kylo Ren stumbles, but does not fall. He stares at his sister who charges with a shout. Her hair has fallen out of the tightly raked hairstyle and hangs wildly in front of her face as she leaps and swings her staff. Her brother catches it, halting the hit, but the princess uses his grip for momentum to swing and slam her feet into his face.

The prince collapses against the wall. He twitches to stand, but the the head of the staff hits his chest and a pulse of electricity forces him to spasm. It sounds like a dozen tasers going off at once. Hux’s head rings as he winces, turning his face into the tarmac.

The clatter of boots and ammunition enters the alley. Hux can hear the assault rifles creaking. Red points scatter over the princess and Kylo Ren’s limp body. They look like corpses in the flood light, white skin shrunken into the contours of their skulls.

“Take him!” shouts the princess, looking down at her twin with bared teeth. “Take my brother and hold him accountable!”

The snipers hold their aim fixed as the armed team enters the alley. Lights crawl over the princess and her unconscious brother.

Handcuffs click over the princess’ wrist. She doesn’t resist – she watches her brother be lifted from the ground. Finally, Hux blacks out.

 

* * *

  

The bureau of paranormal research and defence, B.P.R.D. for short, was founded in 1945 to investigate the supernatural forces that threaten the human existence and to maintain the boundary between mankind and the unknown. On some occasions, the forces have been harnessed in the bureau’s advantage as enhanced talents agents. But Hux has preferred not to use that approach in many years.

For the majority of its existence, the bureau’s base has been in Trenton, New Jersey. Publicly, the bureau is unknown, but funded by the government and other overseas agencies such as the ones from United Kingdom and Japan. Under Hux’s supervision, there hasn’t been a blip in the media about the bureau since the 80s shenanigans. That, has been left behind. Under Hux’s rule and – partially – director Snoke’s guidance, the bureau has been executing its mission without mercy.

It’s has become a finely tuned machine and Hux knows he will be rewarded for his work in time. He won’t be a foot soldier for much longer; he has a greater mission to carry out.

B.P.R.D. has been working faultlessly, until now.

“She has eaten the last box of donuts,” agent Mitaka points out.

Phasma shrugs. “Comfort food,” she says. “She just lost her mother and now she had to almost kill her brother.”

“But the budget.”

Hux looks away from the agents to the elven princess sitting in the cafeteria among the other staff who aren’t paying attention to her or the inhaled donuts and coffee. The donuts are a Friday emotional compensation. Hux thinks it has been a good use of their budget for morale.

Rey, the princess, hikes her feet underneath herself and settles in to shove the last crumbs into her dark lipped mouth. Her hair is scrunched up into a blonde loop on top of her head and her clothes have been swapped out for black sweatpants and hoodie with the B.P.R.D. logo. How had she ever been a princess.

“Phasma,” Hux speaks, turning to the agent. “Do you have a taser on hand?”  
  
She frowns at him, looking briefly at Rey. “For—?”

“I don’t see anyone else willing to visit Kylo Ren and I am not going in there unarmed.” There are of course other precautions taken, but Hux hopes that the sound of the taser will trigger some sort of a reaction from the elf.

Phasma, it seems, is catching onto the idea. She smiles.

 

The bruise hasn’t been colouring Hux’s face gracefully. It looks like a plum had been smashed into the side of his skull. For once, Hux leaves his hair hanging forward – limp. He fixes it again in the reflection of the one-way mirror looking into the room where Kylo Ren is held.

The elf has been cuffed to a chair by his feet and with his hands behind his back after being stripped from the majority of his clothes while unconscious. He has been left in a tunic and torn pants, feet bare on the cement floor.

“Is Kylo a title?” Phasma asks beside Hux. “Or is it the first name.”

Hux shrugs. “What does that matter, we aren’t making friends.”

“But Rey is just Rey— Rey Ren?”

Hux grimaces.

“If Kylo is a title— Kylo Rey?”

“But they are prince and princess.”

“Yeah, fine. I don’t get it.”

Hux lights a cigarette as he walks into the holding room. He doesn’t look at Kylo, as he decides to call him, and takes the seat opposite the creature. Crossing one arm into the crook of the other underneath his great coat, Hux takes the cigarette from his mouth and breathes out the smoke.

The elf’s eyes are pitted into his skull of tear slashed paper skin that seems to be pealing like bark. He looks mountain solid and fragile like a butterfly wing. His yellowed eyes stare at Hux through the cloud of smoke.

“You aren’t going to make this easy, are you?” Hux mutters before taking another drag.

The prince doesn’t move, doesn’t breathe. If the Hux hadn’t been working with the bureau in dealing with ghosts, trolls, goblins, witches, fucking pixies, even cryptids, and eldritch monsters, maybe Hux would have been afraid. He was a career soldier, once, excelling beyond the expectations of his mentors. It wasn’t for nothing.

Hux sighs and taps off the ash. “I don’t want you here,” he explains. “I don’t want to involve creatures like you in our business. It just gets so messy… unnecessary.”

Kylo Ren finally takes a breath – Hux can see it by the shift of his broad shoulders. He is looking at the line horizontally bisecting Kylo Ren’s face instead of the eyes.

“But you aren’t going anywhere. Neither are we. We have bigger issues than you and I – this bureau. Issues that will threaten both of us.” Hux crosses his legs and takes a deep drag of the cigarette. The smoke is grey- brown against the stark blue lights of the bare room. The metal chair scrapes the floor when Hux shifts. “So why don’t we benefit each other. You work for us, we will listen to your methods. You tell us what you know, we give you resources—“

“Where is Rey.”

Hux startles but keeps his face tight.

“Where is my sister,” the elf prince repeats.

Hux takes it slow responding. He breathes in the smoke and ash, burning up his cigarette quickly. “Out of the way.”

Metal screeches on cement. Hux almost flinches. The prince is leaning forward, kept back by the magnetic cuffs. His pale hair is hanging over his face and a threat is clinging to the edge of his teeth.

“What have you done to her, you parasite.” The words burst from Kylo’s lips with spit.

Hux opens his mouth when the door of the room is rattled. He looks away from the prince as the handle turns and door swings.

Rey walks through with Phasma hanging back in the doorway. Hux only has a moment to see the cup of coffee in Rey’s hand before the liquid is thrown into Kylo’s face. For the first time, he sees the prince shocked.

“You think you have the right to be worried about me, after what you have done?” Rey seethes, breathing so heavily her entire body shakes. “Unbelievable.”

Kylo looks away, limp hair dripping, face damp with the spray of coffee. He looks ashamed, like a cat dunked into a bucket of water. His large figure has shrunk into the chair and Rey’s small frame is a tower casting a shadow onto him; they aren’t identical twins, of course.

 

“No.”

Hux and Phasma are in his office, shoved into the leather couch, a tray with empty pizza boxes on the coffee table. They are both half asleep enough to think it’s a joke. Mitaka is stood in front of them on the other side of the table.

“No, absolutely not.” Hux laughs into his hand, rubbing his face. “Dopheld, do I look like a foot soldier to you.”

Mitaka frowns. “No—Sir?”

“Phasma?”

“No, Armitage.”

“Then why, if you both excuse me, the fuck is Snoke assigning me as the babysitter to the pixie prince?”

The logs shift in the fireplace, cracking as the charred timber cracks. Neither of the agents are looking at Hux.

“No one?” Hux pushes. “No ideas? None?” He sighs, drooping back into the couch. “Does it really seem to director Snoke like I have the time on my hands while managing the base? I am hardly a field agent anymore.”

“I would take it as a compliment,” Phasma tells him. “I mean, Kylo Ren is royalty.”

Hux closes his eyes and drops his head back. He feels a squeeze on his shoulder from Phasma’s broad palm.

 

* * *

 

 

There are some things that Hux cannot do for the bureau; he is limited by his power and the order of the hierarchy. There as some things he can’t put in place to make this machine truly work for the benefit of society. But he will find his way there, to the top, perhaps even above the bureau itself. He will chain the pests to the shadows and live comfortably while humanity expands its reaches, harnessing the power of the unknown to its needs.

He has never told this to anyone, only suggested to Phasma the possibilities. Hux has still got far to go, but how can he achieve this by managing the unstable elf prince.

It has been two weeks. It took several days to convince Kylo, with the help from his sister. Hux had let them speak alone, after being proven that she is loyal to their aim. She has been living among the agents, with a temporary apartment and the base open to her as she needs. Speaking to her had been a field day for the specialists and professors, but she cautioned them that her brother knows more.

Hux had every agent on alert the day Kylo Ren stepped out of the holding room without shackles. All exits were on lock down, any transfers between the cells were halted.

Hux could feel every being within the facility brace in the tension when the prince walked through the hallways. He wonders what could have happened if Rey hadn’t been there to hold him to his word.

 

* * *

 

  
It went to shit so quickly. It was obvious it was a mistake.

There was commotion at the troll market. It had bubbled out into public view. B.P.R.D. had to contain it. Hux had stationed a watch outside the entrance to the market after finding it two years into his career with the bureau and the issue had been caught within moments. This was not a normal squabble between vaguely amphibian creatures over the corpse of a raccoon or a business misunderstanding.

There was broken cement and cracked walls under the Brooklyn Bridge. There was dry, hot air coming out from the entrance of the market. There were no lights, no lanterns, no voices.

The tactical teams approached, the rest of the field agents standing back. They had taken the elf twins with them with Kylo under Rey’s and Hux’s supervision. The princess was cooperative, even willing to obey their chain of command and remain covert.

Hux thought it might just be an outburst between the clans, some sort of a disagreement blown out of proportion. Then, they all heard the hiss – the scrape of scales on cement.

There was no fire, no scream, just the blow of wind that almost flattened them to the ground. Rey was shouting for people to stay out of the way. There was a frantic commotion of action as Hux stared at the four yellow eyes of the two reptilian heads hovering twelve feet above the crowd.

The red laser points blinked across the scales that might be black or green. It stepped forward and the ground creaked. Hux shouted for the agents to hold their fire, expecting that the nets were ready. But the stubbed faces of the dragon turned as it heaved its body across the concrete before lifting its wings and abandoning the ground.

Bullets broke the air, but the creature was gone – impossible to see in the dark.

Hux turned to give orders to the agents standing behind, but caught the sight of Rey looking around herself frantically. She was shouting her brother’s name. It only took Hux a moment to realise what happened.

That is how Kylo found himself partially stripped again and shackled to a chair.

Kylo had came back the following morning after his sister spent the majority of the night scouting the city for him. The tactical team that had been called off from the troll market was sent for the prince after finding nothing but husks of charred iron left by the dragon.

Kylo even had the nerve of using the front door. He tracked mud and blood on the carpets all the way down below the ground where he was met by a welcome party of assault rifles. The prince only frowned and sighed through his teeth when he let himself be twisted out of his armour. Hux had the pleasure of keeping his sword which neatly collapsed into the pommel whenever not in use.

There is no one observing the prince from behind the one-way mirror when Hux walks into the room. Hux twirls the pommel in his hand as he had seen Kylo do. He gives the prince a glance before seating himself in the chair against the wall beside the door – diagonal to prisoner’s chair.

Kylo is staring at the floor, not in shame, or guilt, just out of the lack of a better thing to do. He is left only in a shirt and loose trousers, his pale feet bare on the cell floor.

“We have tried the sympathetic method,” Hux tells him, gesturing with the pommel. “Your sister had agreed to provide assistance. But yesterday proved in dealing with that beast that you aren’t ready to cooperate—“

“Is that a thank you?”

Hux looks up, mouth open to continue. Kylo is staring, in a blank self satisfied way.

“You were ready to kill that creature without looking to the root of the problem,” Kylo informs him.

Hux stares back.

“I found it before you could execute that ‘beast’.” There is a twitch on Kylo’s face that could have been a smirk. “There was someone very preoccupied with harnessing the unknown. Sounds familiar, does it not? But don’t worry yourself, you won’t find them. I took care of it while you were ready to slaughter the victim.”

Slowly, Hux crosses his arms. “I appreciate the sentiment, Kylo, but you ran without giving notice to anyone,” he says carefully. “You disobeyed protocol.”

Kylo leans into the metal back of the chair, his shoulders relaxed, legs apart, like he is at ease even in handcuffs. His yellow irises swimming in red are caught on Hux. His expression is absurdly calm, as though he is the interrogator.

“You think yourself above others, do you not?” Kylo asks, turning his head toward Hux. He smiles, a slight jerk of the full lip. “I wonder what it will take a man like you to feel unsteady, to admit uncertainty.”

Hux’s fingers jerk to the taser in the pocket of his coat when Kylo stands. Someone has forgotten to shackle his ankles – a someone who will be fired or demoted the moment Hux leaves the room. The elf could do anything; he doesn’t need a weapon or his hands to break a limb. Even barefoot and in battle tattered clothes, he is a threat. But Hux stays his ground, remaining seated.

“You arrogant little man,” Kylo sighs, closing on him with another step. “What will it take.”

Kylo is stood in front of Hux, his body closing off the pale blue light of the panelled lamps. Hux almost jerks back, grabs for the door handle, when Kylo takes another step and stands over Hux’s lap before seating himself onto his thighs.

Cold sweat breaks across Hux’s skin, blood drains from his face. His knuckles creak on the pommel of Kylo’s sword. His throat closes up when he finds himself facing the elf’s chest, broad and muscular under the loose black shirt. He can smell the dirty water and the city dust on the lank pale hair. He will not look at the black lips, he won’t look at the pitted eyes.

Kylo shifts and and his weight rolls forward from Hux’s thighs onto his hips and crotch. Hux shrinks in the chair, sinking down, and unfortunately finding himself closer to Kylo – trapped under his weight that rocks against him with every breath.

“Still comfortable?”

Hux feels the intake of air beside his ear. He shudders, spasming in the rattling chair, shifting Kylo on his lap. There is a dull feeling of heat coming through Kylo’s clothes, like the birch white skin contains something living.

Hux’s breathing sifts through his teeth. He braces his hands on the sides of the chair and struggles to pull himself up under Kylo’s weight. The elf does not ease off, only shifts his hips and tightens his thighs to keep himself steady.

Hux’s ears ring when the door handle squeaks. The lock clicks. Kylo is standing from the seat of Hux’s lap with a smile of yellowed teeth, black lips crooked. One step back, and Phasma is walking through the door.

The agent takes a look at the prince and then turns to Hux to tell him, “Sir, there is an incident which requires your attention. Immediately.”

Hux tears himself out of the chair and through the door, coat hanging forward to cover himself waist down.

 

* * *

 

A crash shakes through the bureau’s base. Glass shatters. Agents in recess vaguely listen to the shouts travelling through the base. In the library, Phasma takes out one of her earbuds and looks at the doors as she hears the elf princess shriek at a unit of agents attempting to contain the kicking limbs of a furious kelpie they are guiding through the hallways.

The reversed hooves crack the walls as the black stallion rages, breaking the glass displays, spraying water from its snake coiled mane and tail. It’s collared with metal frames attached to poles to keep the creature out of reach. As it pulls, the metal cuts deep into the horse’s neck. It shrieks and kicks again, thrashing in the tight space. Luckily, no agent’s limbs have yet been amputated after coming in contact with the creature.

The kelpie was found by the sea front, lost and meandering dangerously close to civilians. It will be transported back to Scotland, hopefully where it will find its way back to its habitat.

The bureau’s director had left his office to watch the progress of the agents and found Hux and the elf prince locked in a stare in the corridor.

To Hux’s surprise, director Snoke introduces himself to Kylo Ren with delight. Following the job description, the director is an elderly man with shrunken grey skin and a crooked back and an affinity for knowing more than he will ever admit. The glasses and wisps of thin white hair complete the image of a kindly old man, but Hux is convinced that the harmless appearance is no different to the light of an anglerfish. He just needs to find out what is standing behind it.

“I am glad to see your contributions to the bureau are making a difference,” Snoke informs Kylo. “I have heard about the incident at the troll market a month ago, you had done the right thing.”

Hux looks between the prince and director. Kylo is barely tolerating the man, hadn’t even shown respect to him when the director offered his hand to shake it, but Snoke is so pleased with the elf.

“Sir,” Hux interferes, “He broke protocol. Kylo Ren is impossible to control.” He points to the prince. “He is acting on his own decisions.”

Snoke looks at him, brows raised in a way that is meant to indicate moderately shocked understanding.

“Even today, he refused to cooperate,” Hux continues, ignoring the fixed glare from the prince. “He ignored my directions when we were following the kelpie. He did not respond to the locator when either princess Rey or I were trying to contact him.”

Snoke turns to the prince. “Is that so?”

Kylo jerks a smile to Hux, so forced it looks like it could tear his face. “I apologise agent—“ He tilts his head to look at the ID badge Hux puts on by habit every time he returns to the headquarters. “Hoox? Sorry, I still can’t get that quite right. And as for your communication system, I am afraid I’m entirely out of touch with your technology.”

Hux’s jaw is hanging loose. Clamping it, he swallows. “For one, that is _bu_ —“ He winces. “You knew my name this morning and your sister has a stereo system in her apartment, by _her_ request.”

“She has a better grip of modernity, I suspect. Rey has always been much more adaptive.”

Hux knows it’s bullshit. He has seen Kylo making use of the laboratory computers when unoccupied and never seems flustered by the tech rigged base. Everything is as fake as the pleasantry he is showing to the director. Kylo Ren is a manipulative shit that isn’t afraid to play it dirty, as he had learned the last time Kylo had been shackled.

Hux points to the prince and opens his mouth, but Snoke interrupts. “We have the results we needed. The beast has been captured, no civilians were involved. Was that not your aim, agent Hux?”

“Yes but—“

“But?”

“Would you not prefer to assign someone more appropriate to the twins, someone with who Kylo Ren is willing to cooperate?”

Snoke looks between them with theatrical confusion. “Why would I ever want to do that? The both of you work so well together.” He claps his hand on Hux’s shoulder as he passes him. “I want only good results from you, agent.”

Hux bites down on the word ‘cunt’ escaping his mouth in the direction of the director. Kylo is staring at him from the opposite wall of the corridor. He is smirking with his charred lips as the kelpie shrieks from the floor below.

 

* * *

 

  
It’s the first warm day of summer in New Jersey. Instead of making the most of the long hours, Hux is sitting in the dark of a dock house with a scope against his eye, a sniper rifle fixed on the end of the dock of cruisers. The bureau has been called to Long Island.

There is a slow click and clack of weapons and boots as agents shift, waiting for the banshee. Or it was thought to be a banshee, until perfectly cleaned bones of the several missing tourists and fishermen were found piled up by the docks with blood browned clothes hanging from the poles.

Then, they realised that the shrieks were not of a banshee; they are too bird-like. In fact, it is a harpy claiming its territory in the docks. Which would explain the eagle sightings which suggested a bird almost the size of a grown man.

Hux twitches when he feels Kylo hover behind him; he has been pacing for the past two hours, not even having the decency to doze while they wait. Hux got tired on the first hour of telling him to sit, so he tries to ignore the barely perceptible noises of him walking. But the staring is new. It’s making Hux’s skin itch.

The next time the elf is near, Hux tries to bat him away. His hand is pushed back with a cold palm. He aims to punch Kylo’s hip and manages to scratch the leather armour with his knuckles before Kylo grabs his wrist.

“Don’t touch me—!” Hux spits, turning around to rip his hand out of Kylo’s grip. The elf’s jaw tenses when he looks down at him.

“You shouldn’t have tried to hit me,” he tells Hux.

The three other agents within the dock house shift, turning away from the window at which Hux is sat.

“Then maybe stay still like a person.”

Disgust is rippling on Kylo’s pale face. “And I will suggest to you that maybe sitting and wasting time will not get you closer to what you are looking for.”

“Are you questioning my methods?”

There is a clatter on the window sill like the clack of a dog’s claws and a hush of air being drawn. Hux turns at the same moment as the burn of pain strikes through his left shoulder. He jerks back, locking eyes with the yellow stare of the harpy set in a creased, greying folds of skin.

Spit flies into Hux’s face when the harpy shrieks. Hux braces despite the black, chipped talons caught in his shoulder, and tries to pull when the harpy draws away from the window with the heave of its wings. The feathers batter Hux when the harpy drags him over the sill, too quickly for the snipers to find a clear target.

A thump of steps and Hux hears the sweep of metal as he locks his hands on the ankle of the harpy. The red of Kylo’s sword strikes, cutting across the harpy’s bare fleshy chest, and forces it to let go of Hux. The harpy vanishes from the view of the window, shrieking and spitting as it thrashes in the air above the roof.

Hux drops onto the floor as Kylo leaps onto the window sill, turning on one foot to look up at the roof of the dock house. Hux is helped off the floor, leaving tracks of blood, when Kylo steps out of sight.

There is no warning before another shriek comes and with the blast of wings and the scatter of claws, Kylo is picked up by the harpy and flung off from the building. Hux hears the sword hit the dock and then the crashing of water before he is next to the window and staring down at the night ocean rippling with circles of froth.

Kylo resurfaces as the harpy spirals. Even in the dark, Hux can see how drenched he is, like a rat that climbed out of the New York sewers. He is showing his teeth to the harpy and shouts at her something indistinguishable as she cackles. Kylo wrenches himself from the water and grabs for the sword.

 

  
In the end, it took the effort of the snipers and Kylo’s taunting to crash the harpy into the sea. Even the elf seemed to be mildly satisfied to have the injured but alive creature muzzled, caged, and loaded in the back of the B.P.R.D. transport truck.

Hux spent the drive back with a hand on his shoulder, squeezing down on the gauze. He watched Kylo as the elf shook off the dripping cowl and outer layer of armour. The light black shirt underneath was torn by the harpy across his shoulders and chest. Some strikes even landed over his legs and hips.

Standing inside the bureau’s medical centre, fixing his shirt and tie, Hux stares at that veined ashen skin as Kylo pauses in the hallway on the other side of the window to speak to his sister. His hair and clothes are still damp from the dip in the Long Island docks, sticking to his pallid skin. It makes it obvious how well defined his body is, how well that power has been harnessed. 

Hux keeps his stare for a moment too long and looks up too late to see Kylo staring back, alone in the hallway. Hux looks down at the floor, pulls the knot of his tie hard against his throat and turns away.

He pauses at the door for a few moment before walking outside, focused on the tablet in his hand, not quite seeing the words flicking by as he heads toward an elevator.

Hux makes it inside and taps for a level as he turns and stands at the centre. There is a sliver of space between the doors when a hand pushes through and halts them from closing. Hux jerks back when Kylo steps into the compartment.

His dark frame drains the light out of the space, covered in torn, waterlogged clothes that are stained by his own near black blood. His yellow, bloodshot eyes stare from the dark hollows of his sockets through the lank yellowed hair.

Kylo steps forward and Hux drags his feet back. One more step forward and Hux is backed into the wall of the elevator. He is holding up the tablet against his chest, staring at Kylo as he casually shifts forward, cinching the space between them.

Hux stares at the damp yellow ends of hair stuck to Kylo’s ashen throat. This close, Hux can see the cracks in Kylo’s skin. He hates that he looks up he feels cold hit through him. Kylo is leaning forward, staring directly at Hux’s face. It feels like he is piecing him, seeing the parts and setting them apart.

Hux flinches with his entire body when Kylo seems to lean impossibly closer. He can smell the water on him, the dead brine of the sea and the sickly tang of the harpy. He can feel his breathing on his skin, the hush of a scoff, the intake of air.

Hux doesn’t know if he will be hit, if there is a threat waiting to be made. But the elevator doors open and Kylo leans away. He steps back until he is between the open halves of the doors and turns with a smirk on his cracked, bruised lips. Light flushes back into the compartment, displacing the shadow left by the elf.

When Kylo is out of sight, Hux sinks against the wall of the elevator and breathes out, finally. He is dizzy, sick, and the buttons of his trousers feel uncomfortable.

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

Hux pauses when he reaches for the comm to call in a custodian into the library. Thrown between fast food wrappers and beer cans of the brand he knows the elf princess prefers, is the pommel of Kylo Ren’s sword. It’s thrown by the fireplace, almost gone in the pile of trash that Rey trailed across the floor.

The twins are absent from the library and Hux doesn’t see them when he looks out from the doors into the hallway.

In the bright firelight, Hux walks up to the tracks of the twins and reaches down toward the pommel of the sword. He looks around himself again before picking up the cool, dark metal. The strips of plain leather around the pommel warm up quickly as Hux switches it between his hands.

There is a prominent protrusion from the metal, a little less than a trigger, not quite a button. It’s click is a familiar warning before Kylo shreds a threat to all hell.

Hux presses down, pointing toward the fireplace. The red metal slips out like water, solidifying and forming the main column of the blade and the guards. Hux only has a moment to admire it before his arms give out and the point of the blade drops to the floor.

It drags through the trash as Hux tries to lift the sword again, only managing to heave it up to the height of his ankles. His arms are shaking, from his hands to his shoulders, and a prickling pain is starting at the centre of his chest.

The way Kylo twists and twirls the sword in a fight, it’s like it’s lighter than a broom handle – he does it for the fun of it. Hux’s wrists hurt when he tries to turn the blade. He drags it across the floor, scratching a line in the timber.

He weighs the sword onto one side like a cricket bat before bunching the muscles of his arms and swinging it forward. Except, it doesn’t move. Instead, Hux tips back and with the clatter of metal falls onto his ass.

There is a clap as the halves of the library doors close. Kylo is stood on the steps, dressed in sweatpants and a tank top, skin washed blue by the aquarium of moray eels. He watches as the red bladed sword flicks back into the pommel in Hux’s hand. The agent is still panting, staring with the whites of his eyes shining.

Kylo steps down onto the floor of the library and says, “I am surprised to see that the director is putting so much trust in such weak hands.”

Hux flips over onto his stomach when he throws the pommel, hitting the side of the tank where the eels cinch back underneath the coral. Kylo’s yellow eyes are smiling.

 

* * *

 

 

Bats are slipping through the air above the water in the light of the waning moon. The Atlantic air has snapped Ireland with early autumnal frost. Hux rights the collar of his coat and switches hands on the hunting rifle. Kylo is sat beside him on the drystone wall, staring at the moorland poked with swamp pools in the valley of the Kerry County.

They aren’t here to kill anything, to catch or control, just to watch. There has been a silence lying across the water on the states after the elven queen’s death. The bureau has had less and less business, like the general supernatural and human world squabbles have become overshadowed by something. Even the twins had disappeared for sometime, returning with grave expressions on their grey faces.

“The witches, huh,” Hux had overheard the princess say to her brother as he passed them outside the laboratories. “Can’t they keep their peace for even a century.”

The prince only sat in silence, head down.

“You had done nothing to help the situation. Our mother was the only one keeping the peace,” Rey had said, staring at her brother with a look so heavy it made his shoulders bow.

The silence found them in Ireland and Rey in England; there has been talk of war, but no one has been willing to give up the details. So they will watch the covens and clans directly.

There is frost on the grass, the sea echoes in the valley. It looks like Kylo is sleeping; his head is on his fist, legs drooping from the drystone wall. His white hair that has grown to his shoulders is half pulled away with a hair tie. He is holding the pommel of his sword on his knee.

Hux turns away when Kylo shifts, dragging a knee under his chin. Hux’s face twitches when he hears Kylo mutter.

“Did you leave this island because it was too small for your ego?” Kylo asks, scraping back his hair.

Hux snorts. “Did you need a soulless army because you can’t handle any other personality except your own?”

Kylo doesn’t respond. Hux doesn’t look at him, only adds, “Shouldn’t you be involved in this witch business too. You wanted to start a war, anyway.”

There is a sound that might be mistaken for a laugh.

“What this mess needs is order,” Hux tells him. “That is what the bureau stands for. Order.”

“Is that why you enjoy eradication. Because it is easier. Simply flatten the ground and leave no arguments.”

Hux doesn’t challenge the accusation. “As if that wasn’t your plan. Seems like it has been on your mind longer than mine since your sister wasn’t even surprised.”

There is a moment of silence. They watch the shadow of a hare pass beside the blackberry tangles below the hill. The oak canopy shifts, maybe with the wind or an owl slipping into the wait for a hunt.

“Is it what you had done with Anung Un Rama?” Kylo asks him.

It takes a moment for Hux to speak through his smirk. “The last time we had bothered to ask where he is, we were informed that he is dealing with the Order of the Fly. Yet more wars. More thrones to take.”

Hux turns to Kylo and sees the elf watching him. His eyes look dead in the grey light. “But it wasn’t you, who did it.”

“Now that would have really impressed the director.”

Like a dog on a scent, Kylo turns to the fields. Hux follows his attention. There is a shadow like a hare searching through the grass, but as it moves it grows, becoming a mottled smear. It stands and moves hunched, sinking in the shadows of the shrubs where the dark becomes pricked by light like candle flames.

Kylo stands from the wall, the skirting of his clothes snapping on his ankles as he walks down the hill. Hux follows him, looking back at the border of the forest.

 

* * *

 

 

Hux hasn’t been violent, not for years. He even took therapy after Phasma’s persuasion and started drinking less. Breaking his knuckles on glass feels like the first uneven step after one drink too far. He was tempted to hit Mitaka when he tried to hold back Hux from overturning furniture in the cafeteria. He shouldered Phasma, almost reached for his firearm, not even knowing what he would do with it.

He had been calm enough until the director left, after being humiliated, exposed as incompetent in front of his subordinates. The civilians have been killed, because of him.

Kylo promised him there were no more barghests, those creatures that only look like dogs from the far distance until you see their mutating skin. They call out like something imitating a bark, once heard before the throat of a dog was shredded.

Standing in the tunnel of the New York subway, clothed in the blood, Kylo told him to call it off. They were finished.

That creature, elf, monster, is a liar. The news report in the director’s hand proved it. He handed it to Hux like a dirtied sheet to a child. What else should they have expected him? Kylo had killed his own mother.

He knows where to find Kylo. With red, torn knuckles, Hux walks into the training gym. His footsteps are hushed by the foam mats, leaving his heartbeat to fill the silence as he charges toward Kylo – stood with his back to the agent, wiping off the sweat on his neck as he leans on the staff in his fist. Vulnerable without his armour, in sweatpants and a tank top, feet bare.

Hux closes his hand on the back of Kylo’s neck, pulling the pale yellow hairs as he collars the elf with his fingers. Kylo stumbles forward as Hux rips the staff from his hand.

He hits Kylo across the shoulders, once on the backs of his knees, then aims for his neck before the staff it slipped out of his hands. The timber is pushed against Hux’s neck, choking him as he is backed into the wall. His shoulders scrape on the paint glazed concrete as Kylo keeps pushing on his throat with the pole.

Hux snorts and gulps when the staff cuts against the apple of his throat. He grabs it, trying to push back, but it only makes Kylo press harder. He can taste the sweat in Kylo’s hair as the elf leans in and stares at him, lips screwed, eyes furious.

“You are a liar,” Hux hisses and tries to kick Kylo. “A LIAR!” But he doesn’t shift, not even flinch, just tenses his hands on the staff.

Hux reaches to grab Kylo’s hair, but misses when he tilts his head out of the way. “Only as much of a liar as you are,” Kylo tells him.  
“You are a fucking monster and a LIAR—!”

The shout in Hux’s throat becomes a garbled whimper when Kylo pulls back the staff and thrusts it back against Hux’s throat, forcing him stand on his toes against the wall.

“Yes, you are right, I am a liar,” Kylo tells him while watching Hux become red. “What a shocking revelation. But I did not lie to you about the dogs.”

Hux opens his mouth, but the press of timber under his jaw warns him.

“When we were in those tunnels, there was nothing but you or I,” Kylo tells him carefully.

Hux is breathing hard, shaking underneath the staff, but silent.

“We are the least of each other’s problems, like you said in that cell.” Kylo sighs, “but I know that won’t get you quiet.”

Hux knows what he is implying before he even carries out the sentence.

Kylo leans over the staff and prints his mouth to Hux’s, burying his teeth into his lips without courtesy. Hux presses into the kiss, hissing, biting Kylo in turn.

The staff is dropped between them, Hux’s nose is jammed into Kylo’s cheek as he licks his mouth, tastes his tongue. He can feels the cracks of Kylo’s lips as he grabs him by the waist, twists the sweat damp tank top onto his fists. Kylo’s hand are on his neck, pulling the collar of his shirt and the hairs on his nape.

There is barely enough sense in Hux not to rip the hair from Kylo’s scalp, not to bite his lip hard enough to tear it. He pulls away from Kylo’s mouth and grabs him by the waistband of his sweatpants. There is a smirk on Kylo’s lips as he takes Hux by the wrists and pulls him from the gym.

Hux is shaking with adrenaline when he trips over the threshold of the apartment given to Kylo. There are shallow accumulations of detritus in the corners, speckles of disorder – a sign of his presence, a life behind lived. Hux’s clothes are dropped among them, added to the tracks.

Thrown onto the edge of the bed in the corner of the open apartment in his underwear and tank top, Hux stares as Kylo climbs into his lap. His pale legs are bare of the gym pants as he peels off the sweat limp top. Hux has his teeth on the ashen skin before Kylo drags the fabric over his head.

Kylo pushes him away with a palm to Hux’s forehead. “Stop,” he tells him. “Sit still.”

Hux scratches his teeth on Kylo’s wrist and moves away, pushing himself up against the wall.

Kylo follows him and presses his forearms to the concrete on either side of Hux’s shoulders. He is staring down as him, like he is threatening instead of seating his ass on Hux’s groin. He spreads his thighs when Hux covers his ass with spread palms, encouraging Kylo to grind down. Hux can feel the girth of Kylo’s cock, the surprising heat of it, pressing against his stomach as Kylo uses him for friction.

Forgetting Kylo’s instruction to be still, Hux drags his hands down his ass and hikes up the hems of the plain black boxers, palming the damp skin. Kylo hits the wall over Hux’s head and shows him his teeth between cracked lips. He grunts when Hux hits his ass with an open palm before pressing down between his cheeks, digging his fingers into the softness of the taint.

Kylo grabs Hux by the jaw, smothering him with his hand, and drags him into a kiss. Kylo’s hair is sticking to Hux’s face as he breathes in the smell of his skin. It’s odd, like the odour of river water, or cut grass, broken rock, but also covered in the salt of sweat.

Kylo shakes the thoughts from Hux’s head by squeezing his mouth, forcing it open, and licking across his spread lips. When he lets go of him, Hux drops forward, breathing hard, as Kylo sits back to pull down his underwear. Hux stares at the cock hanging between Kylo’s thighs, thick and hard, blushed unlike the rest of him.

Hux drags Kylo forward by his ass while he attempts to pull down Hux’s underwear. He can feel drool collecting on the corners of his mouth as he stares at Kylo’s dick. He wants to get his mouth on it, suck and tease, squeeze it until Kylo can’t bear it. Or get his mouth between the cheeks of the ass under his hands that he keeps pinching and rubbing. So frenzied, frustrated, that he wants to piece apart Kylo and eat him. But he can’t do any of it; not while Kylo is keeping him under control, getting his own hand on Hux’s cock, the pink and red skin looking odd against his ashen knuckles.

Hux closes his eyes when Kylo squeezes his cock in his fist, pumping it, making Hux’s hips twitch and shift. He presses his face into Kylo’s chest, spreading his across his ass, squeezing the firm muscle, pulling and kneading, fingertips reaching down to press against his asshole.

Kylo leans away. Hux watches, senseless, while Kylo spits into his palm and covers Hux’s cock with his hand, pumping his fist before lifting up on his knees. Hux watches the thick globs of spit roll down his cock, dazed, and distantly considering stopping this to get lube.

Hux hisses when he feels Kylo’s thigh brush against the head of his cock as shifts over Hux. “You are going to bleed,” Hux breathes out, but doesn’t try to stop him.

“And won’t you be happy about it,” Kylo smirks as he lowers himself onto Hux’s lap, pushing his cockhead inside his hole. “Don’t worry, you are barely a challenge.”

The uncomfortable friction makes Hux whine as Kylo rocks down his hips, taking him inside. It’s a slow, straining drag that brings Kylo to be seated on Hux’s crotch, cushioned from the prominent bones of Hux’s legs by the toned muscle. Hux looks down at Kylo’s cock resting against his stomach, on the pale pink rolls of skin under the rucked up top.

Hux drags his palms up Kylo’s thighs, pressing his fingers into the softness, before slipping them up onto Kylo’s ass. He cups the generous weight of it and recoils one hand to slap his spread palm against the right cheek. Kylo jerks slightly in his lap, breathing in heavily, and grins, taking the hit as a cue.

Kylo holds Hux down by his shoulders as he rides his cock. He doesn’t seem to care how raw it is, that it will chafe. The bed creaks on the flimsy metal frame as Kylo pushes Hux against the wall, using him like furniture while he grinds Hux down into the mattress.

There is sweat on Hux’s back, on his legs, as the grey covers bunch around him. He reaches up and catches a hand in Kylo’s hair, yanking it without grace, making the elf snarl and snap when Hux twists the pointed ear. Kylo stares at him like he wants to hit him.

Kylo‘s rhythm is rough, fucking himself on Hux’s dick while thrusting his cock against Hux’s bare stomach. Hux can do nothing but lie back and watch the elf become sloppy and loose as he rides him. The bed jerks when Kylo leans back on his hands, putting more force into the thrusts of his hips. Hux holds him by the knees, leaning back against the wall, watching the hair fall into Kylo’s face. He wishes he could be more rough, more violent, say something to make Kylo cringe, but his adrenaline is dying down. He is too tired to remember to be angry.

Kylo’s head tips to the side, his yellow eyed stare drops onto Hux. They look at each other for a strange moment until Kylo jerks his lip, showing teeth, and Hux drags him forward by his fringe. They kiss – teeth and tongue and lazy snarls. Hux drags a hand down Kylo’s back, pressing his fingers to the rim of his asshole, stuffed full of cock.

Hux comes inside Kylo while holding him down against his hips, his hearing filled with the elf’s deep breathing. Kylo works his own cock while Hux is still filling him. His head is on Hux’s shoulder, breathing into his neck, teeth pressed to the skin.

Hux’s eyes are closing when he feels Kylo’s cum drip down the fabric of his tank top, seeping through it to the skin of his stomach. Hux swallows and drags back his hair, watching sparks fly behind his eyelids.

A knock shudders the room. Hux freezes and Kylo leans away. The door handle doesn’t turn.

“Kylo—“ Rey is on the other side. Hux and Kylo look at each other. “I need to talk to you.”

Kylo covers Hux’s mouth and presses on his hips with his thighs when the agent attempts to move.

“I know we have been avoiding this for the sake of making this situation work but—“ There is a creak, so faint it’s only audible in the petrified quiet as Rey presses her palm to the door.

“Oh.” She steps back from the door. “O-oh—!” Then she makes a choked sound, like she is retching. “Ugh. How many fucking times does this have to happen in a century? Ugghhh—!”

Hux knows his face is red; Kylo’s smirk is the final clue. He still hasn’t moved off Hux, just sits comfortably on his soft cock.

“Agent Hux,” Rey calls through, making him jerk underneath Kylo. “Please return my brother to me once he is at least half decent.”

Kylo climbs off him when Rey leaves the hallway. Hux stares down as his boxers bunched on his thighs and hiked up tank top, cock limp and covered in his own cum. He is dizzy as he tries to right his underwear, sitting on the edge of the mattress. Kylo is behind him, naked and smirking, dragging him down by the waist.

Hux tries to stand, but finds himself on his back. Kylo is rolling onto him and leaning on his chest, face against his neck, ashen body and head of mottled pale hair covering him. He is like a dog claiming his food.

“Ky—“

The elf looks up at Hux and puts one finger to his lips. It feels like a threat.

Hux pinches his lips and Kylo grins when he doesn’t try to speak again.

 

* * *

 

 

The German shepherds are pushing their muzzles against Kylo’s hands as the elf sits crouched on the floor. Their noses are leaving red and brow slippery tracks over his skin as the prince soothes them, letting them whine and press against him while he runs his fingers across their patchy coats failing to hide the ribs and bowed spines.

The ceiling shifts as footsteps pass on the floor above as agents survey the rooms. The faes have taken care of most of the situation; a deal gone wrong with a scholar who thought he could cheat his way out of the old system. He was more than an enthusiast of the occult and supernatural, but the ego is always the fault.

The fae took their due, and the dogs guarding the house took their own. Hux had been one of the first to see it when he searched the house. The dogs were unwilling to part with the meal until Kylo called them off.

There was nothing else to do for them, so Kylo led the dogs downstairs into the kitchen and kept them calm while agents clean out the house. Hux watches him shift on his knees, letting the dogs lick his hands. Its not so dissimilar to how Kylo treats him.

If Kylo doesn’t just walk away when he is bored of Hux’s lectures, if he is cornered in his apartment, he will drag Hux onto the bed and let him fuck him. Most recently, he had allowed Hux to get his cock inside him from behind, even pull his hair, wrap it on his fist. Distracted by a dick in his ass, Kylo didn’t mind letting Hux’s hands wander. Still, Hux felt like the one collared, instead of Kylo – grinning into the pillow, pushed down with a hand on the back of his head.

The prince, as it turns out, likes his ass slapped like a school boy. That was discovered when Kylo grabbed Hux’s hand and forced it to his ass. Even degradation is a command from him. Hux remains below him.

A dog yips and circles itself, bouncing with eagerness as it pushes itself against Kylo’s chest. The elf doesn’t resist and lets the dog nuzzle him.

“We aren’t going to let you adopt them,” Hux tells him.

Kylo’s shoulders hunch inwards, or perhaps Hux imagines they do. He steps toward the prince and touches his shoulder, reaching toward his hair. It has grown long, almost past his shoulders. He often spits it out when it catches in his mouth in the middle of the very unnecessary sword twirling.

Hux touches the edge of Kylo’s collar which reaches his jaw and the elf jerks away, throwing a glare. Hux smirks and drops his hand to his side.

It’s not lost on others that something has shifted. Even Rey, who has been distracted eyeing a newcomer agent, had been confused why her brother hasn’t been coming for Hux’s blood. But it’s only because Kylo has been avoiding making permanent damage that might stop him from climbing into his lap for cock. Nothing has stopped him wringing Hux of dignity.

Hux’s retaliation hasn’t stopped either, he never swallowed his need to control the maniac pixie. Now, he just knows that his actions and words dictate how easy Kylo will be when Hux gets him in bed – or against the wall, or the the shower floor.

Dog claws clatter on the floorboards as Kylo stands. He shakes off the long skirting on his clothes as he walks out of the kitchen and through the hallway, never looking at the scattering of antique relics, the shelves of manuscripts, the mounted heads with empty eye sockets. Hux stares at his back, seeing the shadows on the walls of the dogs, and wonders how long it’s going to be before Kylo clips a leash to his collar.

 

* * *

 

 

Hux is scratching the scabs on his forearms from being dragged across concrete by the arm of a baby maybe-kraken when Kylo drops back into bed beside him and says, “You would’ve suited the crown of the golden army.”

Hux’s fingers slip, tracking blood on his skin. He looks at Kylo who is pushing back his damp hair from his face. His golden eyes are hazy. He is naked and satisfied.

“I am not sure if that is an insult or—“

“You are insane enough to want that power, as a son of Adam – a human being.” Kylo’s mouth jerks, almost smirking or perhaps grimacing.

Hux moves under the wrecked covers. “I still don’t see your point.”

“You are obsessed with order,” Kylo says, turning to look half heartedly at Hux. “An army that can’t even flinch to act against you would have been perfect for you.” Then, his eyes slowly move down Hux’s body, before he smiles and looks away. “It’s a shame you are so stupidly human.”

Hux watches a bead of blood run down his forearm as Kylo yawns.

 

* * *

 

 

There are no strict rules about smoking in the library, there being a fireplace and all, but its generally considered a no-go. Hux gives himself a free pass as he lights a cigarette in an armchair of a reading corner. Concrete dust has rubbed off his clothes into the cracks of the leather. Blood is running down from his forehead onto his swollen eyelid.

Hux taps off ash onto the carpet where Kylo is lying, struggling to breathe. The ties of his armour are undone to keep the painful pressure off his broken ribs. Medical staff are spread thin after the dealing with a family of werewolves. The twins and agents have been told to wait; their injuries aren’t a priority. Now, Hux is more certain than ever that he hates family drama.

Rey is sat somewhere on the steps below while Finn tries to stop the bleeding on her legs. She is better at dealing with the ribs than her brother after the injury passed to her through the twin link gizmo nonsense.

Hux should be managing the chaos, but he has been stationed on nanny duty with the two most volatile assets. At least, they have tampered down their murderous tendencies toward each other after almost a full year of working with the B.P.R.D.

“Who built this library?”

Hux squints over the side of the armchair down at Kylo. The elf’s eyes are barely visible in the black sockets of his face. The cracks on his face look as though they might flake like bark.

“It couldn’t have been Director Snoke. He would not have had the patience, or love, for this,” Kylo mutters, shifting slowly on the floor.

“It was Professor Trevor Bruttenholm. He was the founder.”

Kylo’s eyes trip down the ceiling of the library. Rey can be heard speaking faintly to Finn.

“What happened to him?”

Hux taps off ash onto the floor as smoke burns his lips and nose. “Frogs.”

“Frogs?”

Hux nods. The moray eels hit the glass of the library tank as they initiate a squabble. On the floor, Kylo shrugs.

“It would be frogs,” he mumbles before closing his eyes again.

 

* * *

 

Phasma wipes the snow off her locator and taps it. “The car still immobile?”

Agent Mitaka’s voice crackles through “—ll stationary.” The sound cuts off with a gulp. From tripping on the snow, Hux assumes. “We’ll have to ditch it, I think, call for an extraction—“

Wind passes over the hill of the cemetery, cutting off Hux from hearing Mitaka. The ash crumbles off his cigarette with the last ember which he struggled to light for ten minutes after braving the cold and pulling the down the thermal fleece hood which covered everything but his eyes.

Hux spits out the cigarette into the snow, through the gaps in the fence that stands around a gravestone with plastic flowers in clear wrapping peaking out from under the ice crusted drifts. The partitions of the neighbouring graves barely have space between them to walk. At intervals, there are benches positioned in front of a fence, crooked under the snow. There are photographs on the stone headstones, but many are only crosses fenced off by partially collapsed spikes of wood held by wire. Phasma has cleared off some names while they wait, reading the names in the mustering of Russian she can remember from youth.

The doors of the church underneath the hill have been shut up and there are no foot prints in the yard. The only presence in the graveyard is what is underneath the collapsed stones at the peak of the hill. There are indents in the snow, wide and deep, but they disappear once the clearing meets the fences.

Kylo had led them like a dog to the graveyard on the hill after they passed through the empty town a mile of lake water away. He had walked ahead when the the car was unable to move through the snow and reached the peak between the dead trees before Hux and Phasma caught up.

Hux saw the stones shift and a door disappear before he reached Kylo. He still has half a mind to leave Kylo and try to get the car moving; Mitaka isn’t a mechanic, barely a pencil pusher. He is an analyst with the loyalty of a lap dog kicked out from its home.

Hux is reaching for another cigarette when he hears the stones grind together behind his back. He sees Phasma staring as footsteps creak in the snow.

Hux turns, lighter still held up as the wind pushed back the fur lined hood of his coat. There is blood on the snow where Kylo is standing. The collar of his tunic and armour have been torn open, from his neck to his shoulder. Most of his right sleeve is missing, the glove and gauntlet gone. The draping fabric is shredded and the remains are damp. The smell of still water is obvious in the snow cleared landscape and so is the blood as it continues to drip.

Kylo’s eyes draw up from the ground to Phasma who is swearing under her breath.

“Yaga lost her courtesy in negotiation,” Kylo says. “She will have to deal with being blind in both eyes, for now.”

Hux turns to Phasma. “It’s time to call for an extraction, agent.”

She is running with the decline of the hill between the graves and trees as Kylo drops against the stones and slides down into the snow. His knees press into the frozen crust of the ground below as the hilt of the red sword falls out of his hand. His white neck looks painfully vulnerable as he leans forward, damp hair hanging onto his face. He is breathing hard, struggling to even out the spasms in his chest.

Hux pulls up the fleece hood over his nose and unzips his coat. Through layers of jackets and shirts, Hux can feel the Russian frost.

The coat covers Kylo’s shoulders, but the hood drops away when he looks up. There is a cut lancing across his nose and down his cheek where blood is rolling down his papery skin like the rich tree sap. For some reason, he had given up his dignity for a town emptied of people. Wasn’t he ready to sacrifice an entire world not a year prior?

Hux scoffs and looks away from Kylo’s yellow eyes. Despite every sign, he looks too human – sitting in the snow, hands slack on his knees.

The sound of helicopter blades cuts the air. Kylo is trying to stand, but Hux has to hold him by the forearm for him to find his feet. His skin is frozen, stiff with the cold.

 

* * *

 

 

It’s snowing in New York with thick, cotton flakes that land on the paths of Central Park. Hux can see the roads where the traffic tries to pull through as he stands in the avenue of trees. There is a family with their children and dog at the end of the path. The dog yips and jumps like a speck of coal dust on the white as the children tosses it snowballs.

Hux flinches when Kylo sneezes, shaking the snow that landed on the hood of his coat. Hux watches Kylo wipe his nose and stare down the wide path as the dog leaps and snaps its teeth at the falling snowflakes.

Kylo is dressed in borrowed clothes. The thick fleece lined trousers are a stitch too short, but the winter boots that look to clunky, too awkward on his feet make up the difference. Rey had tried to put sunglasses onto him before he got into the car, but Kylo swatted her as she laughed, still trying to put the thick rimmed purple glasses onto his face.

He has not returned the coat Hux gave him weeks ago in Russia. But he doesn’t care, as long as he doesn’t have to deal with the stains.

Hux watches Kylo pull a glove onto his grey hand, struggling to match the fingers.

He doesn’t know why Kylo lets him so close, why does he allow himself to be vulnerable. What has happened in the year they have known each other.

“Do pixies get colds too?” Hux asks, blinking the snow from his eyes; its getting heavier, he can barely see the lines of Kylo’s face.

Huffing, Kylo finally rights the glove.

Hux smirks. “So fragile. I thought you would be above getting sick.”

Hux doesn’t lean away when Kylo steps forward, showing his teeth. He is standing tight against Hux as he frowns at Kylo’s black mouth. Now, he can see every crack on his lips that bleed out colour onto his face.

“Are you done yet?” Hux asks.

Kylo isn’t hearing him. He is leaning in and Hux takes a deep breath as he closes his eyes. Kylo’s lips meet his. Hux has kissed Kylo dozens of times. They kissed while they fucked, to end an argument, out of boredom. Each time he forgets that Kylo isn’t young and then he wonders how many people Kylo has shared his mouth with. Should he be feeling victory or disgust – he has given in, hasn’t he.

Kylo’s gloved hand is on Hux’s cheek, pushing into his hair underneath his hat. Hux breathes warmth into Kylo’s rough skin as he opens his mouth. He tastes like nothing, and that in itself is too much.

Snow drops on Kylo’s face when Hux leans. He feels the flakes melt as he breathes out a heavy cloud. Kylo’s mouth hangs open.

Hux licks his lips as he steps around Kylo and walks down the path, feet sinking into the untouched snow. The family and the dog are gone. The falling snow isn’t slowing down. Footsteps creak beside him. A cold hand slips into his coat pocket beside his own, forcing its way into the fist his made, claiming the fingers, the palm, the space in between.

 

 

 


End file.
